


He Leaves with the Tide

by Julianna4121



Series: A Thousand Years [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Abuse, Angst, Captain Dean, First Time, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Human Castiel, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Love at First Sight, M/M, Pirate Dean, Servant Castiel, Smut, Soulmates, Viking dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-04-30 05:52:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5152712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julianna4121/pseuds/Julianna4121
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is a runaway Viking with his highly envied custom ship, pirating across the ocean gathering his crew. One of his new oarsmen brings along a servant who came to him through a trade. The servant's name is Castiel, no last name that he knows of because he has been passed around from master to master his whole life. Dean is immediately enamored with Castiel, the servant with the strange eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Servant

**Author's Note:**

> This is in NO way accurate historically, geographically, and otherwise. This is the result of a sleepless night and a lot of google.

Dean Vinnbrystet was a strong willed man whose lifelong love affair with the sea had led him to choose to leave his small fishing village to pursue her open waters. His father was a diplomat who, when he had fallen out of graces with the surrounding country powers, was banished to the fishing village so Dean was forced to spend the later years of his adolescence there.

He had grown up accompanying his father on diplomatic trips. He had spent more time with his feet on the damp oak panels of ships than he had with his feet on solid ground. Because of this, Dean considered himself a child of the ocean. His love, his happiness, and his very life seemed to hang on his notion that the only stable relationship he had ever had was with the foaming sea.

His father was a secret drunk, when it became not so secret is around the time he started losing favor with highly respected individuals. His mother couldn’t stand being on the water and would constantly be sick. She stayed behind on trips, promising to come the next time, until she was with child and then the promises stopped. Only a few months after giving birth, there was a scandal in the village about his little brother’s true father. He was told that in her shame, his mother lit their home on fire. There were no survivors.

Dean and his father had been on a trip when this occurred and only heard news of it upon docking. Dean was overcome with grief but his father acted as through this was just another update on an undesirable storm. Though Dean was young, he remembers seeing his father hand off payment to a sketchy individual, a wanderer who his mother had often fed until times became too hard to continue. He hadn’t known then what it was about but began to suspect foul play as his knowledge of the world grew.

After five long winters of staring at the wild waves that refused to succumb to the freezing temperatures, in his twenty seventh summer of life he finally made the decision to leave the small fishing community. What prompted him was his father’s dying wish that Dean take their only ship and become a diplomat, restore their family’s reputation. Of course Dean took the ship, though it was old and in need of repairs. What he didn’t do was become a diplomat.

Dean had learned that by using his smart tongue and natural charms, he could basically guarantee himself an income, granted that there was always a supply of people too dumb to know not to trust a pretty face. To do so on the water would take extra skill but he was confident in his abilities.

He took his savings and what little his father had left him and began restoring his ship. It had been a simple ship before but after Dean’s work it was more glorious than anything anyone in the area had ever seen before. He hadn’t limited himself to the general model of a Viking ship, instead he took inspiration from all the other types of vessels he had seen on his travels.

He kept the traditional oarsmen but added living quarters for a less grisly experience. The ship could easily hold over forty crew members so he arranged for each room to be large enough for at least five sleeping men. The cabins were located on the deck above where the oarsmen worked, first coming to the servant’s cabin then all the crew cabins and at the very end was the Captain’s area. It was larger and far more luxurious than the other rooms but Dean felt he had earned it.

In the end, the impressive ship had three decks. It wasn’t normal to have such a large ship when not at war but it was necessary for Dean’s intentions. He wanted to sail for months on end. He wanted to drift until he could see nothing but the strikingly specific shade of blue he had come to love.

The hardest part was finding people willing to become his crew. He could give no money upfront, only the promise of future payment and that they would be well provided for on board. He recruited a few worthy members from the village and with them he took to sailing the coast to find more. Growing up surrounded by people from many different lands had made Dean’s speech a rough mix of Norse, Norwegian, and Swedish. It served to help him though because he could communicate very well with anyone from those regions. His strange speech pattern and infectious personality attracted over a dozen more men to join him.

Along with those men came a cook and her staff, and servants belonging to a couple crew members. In all he had twenty men, five kitchen staff, and seven servants under his charge. When they docked to pick up their last member, a brute but a hard worker, that’s when Dean was caught frozen in his place for the first time since when he was a small boy encountering a particularly nasty storm. He had been scared then, not sure what to do amidst the chaos of yelling men tying things down. This time he was frozen when he made eye contact with the brute’s small servant as they we ascending to boarding ramp.

The servant had eyes the exact color of the sea when sunlight spread her rays across it in the morning. Dean had never seen a person born with eyes that shade of blue. He was immediately drawn to the servant, but kept himself from stepping forward to meet the vann musa, aware that improperly engaging with the brute’s ‘property’ would put him in bad favor with the crew.

Still, Dean Vinnbrystet was a man who didn’t deny himself any of the world’s pleasures. After he had briefed the men on where they would be working and sleeping, he went to find where the small man had gone while everyone else went on with their assigned duties. He found him unpacking a rough canvas bag in one of the crew cabins. Dean stood silently in the doorway, observing.

The man was not as small as Dean had initially thought. Although he was quite thin, he was only a hand’s length shorter. He was dressed in old, plain clothes that hung off his frame awkwardly. His hair was dark as coal and held a slight curl where it ended just past his ears. He looked to be in his prime, probably only a few years younger than Dean.

The servant finally noticed Dean and jumped in surprise. “God, I wasn’t expecting an audience.” He said with a hand over his rapidly beating heart, “I’m almost done here then I will leave you be.” The man continued folding clothes but looked back up when nothing was said.

“Oh, that’s right. You probably don’t understand me. Well I’ll be done soon enough so I suppose it doesn’t matter.” He muttered.

“I understand you.” Dean said suddenly. When it mattered most it seemed all the charm had evaporated from his body and he couldn’t muster the strength to elaborate when those blue eyes were staring into his.

“S-Sir? English? You speak English? I can’t believe this! I haven’t had a real conversation in so long!” The man exclaimed. He dropped what he had been holding in shock.

“I speak the tongue of the sea, which is to say, I speak many languages.” Dean replied smoothly, regaining his a part of his charm. He couldn’t help but grin at the servant’s obvious excitement.

“What are you called, vann musa?” Dean asked.

“My name is Castiel, Captain.”

Castiel. Dean liked the way that sounded.

 

To be continued?


	2. Meanings

Three days into their travels and Dean Vinnbrystet hadn't made any more attempts to interact with the servant. He never stopped watching him though.   
  
Dean watched the way Castiel walked clumsily because of the ship's movements, the way he would take extra time to help other servants with their chores, and the way he would cower whenever his master came around. It spiked an anger unrivaled in his life when he saw the way the brute treated the vann musa.   
  
The brute's name was Henrik. He was a German man with an ugly temper. Henrik liked to push his servant around, he seemed to take a sick kind of pleasure in it. In different circumstances Dean would usually have ignored the behavior but this time it left a bitter taste in his mouth. He could continue to watch Castiel suffer as much as he could give up his ship and move inland for the rest of his life. Dean just didn't know how to go about freeing the man.  
  
It was late the third night when there was a knock on his cabin door. Dean opened the door to find a shy looking Castiel, nervously clutching a bowl of water.  
  
Without making eye contact, Castiel hurriedly ran through his words. "I apologize, Captain. It seems no one brought your morning washing water. I'm sorry to disturb you. I know that this is-"   
  
"-inappropriate?" Dean finished. He appraised the new fear on the man's face. He raised an eyebrow and softened his voice, "Please come in."   
  
Dean waved in the shivering servant and took the bowl from him. Dean set it down next to the washing water that someone indeed had brought him already.   
  
Seeing that Castiel was still violently shivering, Dean grabbed a gorgeous fur robe and wrapped it around his small shoulders. Dressed in this fine garnet, Dean could see his potential. This is a man who deserved nice things. Nice things that Dean could give to him.   
  
"I must admit, sir that I have come under false pretenses." Castiel whispered solemnly, while gently running his fingers through the soft fur on him. Castiel could make no guess as to what animal it came from but he did note that it was probably the most expensive thing he had ever touched.   
  
Dean sat tiredly in one of his comfortable chairs. "Oh, yes I know."   
  
Castiel finally took in the room around him. What mainly struck him, was how blue it was. The chair his captain was sitting in was a beautiful sheepskin which had been dyed a midnight blue. The large bed was closer to a royal blue with golden accents in a pattern so intricate it was likely to be inspired by India. There were various paintings of ships in the ocean on the walls. His desk was a dark cherry wood with gold feet to keep it from moving on rough waters. There were piles of papers with neat notes written in black ink but it was in a language that Castiel could make no sense of.  Behind him was a simpler chair, though still expensive, and Castiel took a seat in it.   
  
"The fur is made from wolves. They say to wear it around your shoulders is to cage the spirit of the wolf in your heart." Dean explained while pouring himself a drink. When he offered some to Castiel, he declined politely. "A wolf who doesn't drink?" Dean asked with a smirk.  
  
"I am no wolf, Captain." Castiel replied sheepishly.   
  
Dean gave him a long look. The servant had deep bags under his eyes and his hair had flattened over his forehead from the sea mist. "The most cunning wolves disguise themselves well, vann musa."   
  
Castiel blinked trying to hold back a smile. "What is vann musa? You've called me that more than once."   
  
"It means Water Mouse." Dean replied after a moment. He took a long sip of his drink, waiting for a reaction.   
  
Now Castiel let himself openly smile. "Water mouse seems to better describe me, Captain."   
  
Dean simply nodded. He didn't tell him how he had been calling him that since the moment he laid eyes on him. Dean cleared his throat, "My name is Dean Vinnbrystet. Please call me Dean, while we are in my cabin."   
  
"That's a good name." Castiel said simply. He didn't know if he should really cross the line and refer to his superior officer in an informal way.   
  
"Dean is my given name, but Vinnbrystet is strong. That is a name I earned." Dean said brightly, taking on the tone of a man who had seen many victories.   
  
"You don't inherit your surnames?" Castiel asked, surprised.  
  
"If you have a strong family name then the son may choose to keep the surname but for others, you have to make a name for yourself. Vinnbrystet means something like 'winner of chests' in your language.  
  
"Have you found much treasure?" Castiel inquired curiously.  
  
Dean winked, "I was a very excellent gambler."

There was a pause between the two of them. Castiel felt he hadn’t anything more to say without prompt and Dean struggled to pick what he wanted to say out of all the thoughts crashing around in his head.

“I know that you’re here because I speak your native tongue. I want you to know that your company does not bother me, I am only worried Henrik will disapprove.” Dean finally said, worry heavy in his voice.

“He will disapprove. I can’t understand but a few words he says yet I always know when he’s angry. My master before him was kind. I miss him dearly.” Castiel grimaced.

“If I may, How did you come to be in the grip of a German ship hand?” Dean asked.

Castiel fidgeted with the robe, brushing the fur with his fingers as if it was therapeutic. “My master, Gabriel, was a kind man but a fool. He drank too much one night in a tavern and made the acquaintance of Henrik. Then Henrik was a traveling salesman, he had a cart full of expensive foreign candies and deserts. He offered to trade all of his merchandise for me.”

“Gabriel just let you go? For candy?” Dean recoiled, shocked.

Castiel smiled sadly. “Master Gabriel had a sweet tooth.”

“And Henrik? Not to offend but why would he trade all his items for a servant boy? Specifically you?” Dean furrowed his brows.

Castiel didn’t answer and he couldn’t look Dean in the eyes. His breath hitched and Dean was immediately on his knees in front of the man. “Vann musa, what is it? Why do you cry?”

Castiel shakily wiped away the escaping tears. “Master Henrik…he was attracted to me when he saw me in the tavern. He wanted me in a way I had not known before.” Castiel finally met Dean’s gaze.

His blue eyes were the color of the sea at right at sunset. When the sun kisses the water goodbye and dips away until the next morning. The sea never knows if the sun will return, there is only sorrow until the next day. This is how Castiel looked. He looked as though he had been waiting for the sun the come back for a very long time.

Dean Vinnbrystet was enraged. He pushed off the ground seeing nothing but red. He barged out of his cabin with a shocked Castiel running behind calling after him.

“HENRIK!” Dean yelled. “HENRIK COME HERE RIGHT NOW!” Dean could vaguely hear Castiel begging him to stop yelling, begging him to come back to the cabin, but Dean was too far gone in his anger.

One of the cabin doors opened slowly and out came Henrik, dressed in his work clothes because he was probably getting ready to take a night shift.

“Yes, Captain?” He said flatly in Norwegian before turning is eyes to see a terrified Castiel standing behind Dean. Henrik narrowed his eyes menacingly. “Is this schwuchtl bothering you?”

Dean knew some German and he knew what schwuchtl meant. It only fueled the fire burning inside him and before he knew it, he had cocked back his arm and punched the leering brute square in the face. Henrik went down with a heavy thump and Dean stood above him breathing hard.

The four other men who roomed with Henrik were now awake and curious. Drained, Dean motioned for them to pick Henrik up and place him on a bed. “When he wakes up, tell him not to bother with any shifts. He’s getting off the next time we dock.” With that said simply, Dean turned and returned to his cabin with Castiel on his heels.

Castiel was shaking. Dean knew he didn’t understand what had been said but he was sure he could interpret what happened by the actions. He undid the robe and led Castiel to the bed. “Please sleep here tonight, vann musa. Henrik will be very angry when he awakens and I don’t want him to take it out on you.” He pulled back the thick covers and helped him sit.

As if he were in a trance, he whispered, “Captain, I don’t think I…”

Dean shushed him. “Dean. Call me Dean. I have no ill intentions, vann musa. I have much work to do so I will watch over you.” Dean assured gently.

Castiel relaxed and allowed Dean to push him into laying down. The bed was the softest he had ever been on and he felt like a sky god taking a nap on a cloud. He was so tired, he quickly fell asleep.

Dean watched him, as he had said he would. He watched the way Castiel’s face lost so many years of pain when he was sleeping. The way he curled into the smallest position he could even though the bed was large enough for four grown men. He watched Castiel’s lips when they formed the word “Dean” over and over, just barely a whisper.

It was enough. Dean had realized while watching him that his cabin was now complete with Castiel in it. He had commissioned so many blue items, fine cloth and beautiful paintings, but none of them got the color Dean was looking for. The color Dean was in love with. The color of Castiel’s eyes.


	3. Dreams

Castiel could feel himself rocking slowly, in time with the sound of waves crashing against the sides of the oak ship. He was warm, not uncomfortably so but enough that he didn’t want to move just yet. He snuggled down lower into the soft bed, wishing he could stay all day.

But he had chores to attend to. Castiel sighed and reluctantly blinked his eyes open. He squinted in the dimly lit room until it wasn’t so blurry anymore. Castiel inhaled sharply when he saw his captain, Dean, asleep in the sheepskin chair. 

He had never seen Dean’s face so relaxed. He slept leaned over with his head propped up by his hand. His breathing was even and faint but it still managed to make a small wisp of hair dance around in front of his slightly parted lips. He had taken two tendrils of hair from his temples and pulled them back into a simple braid. The rest of his dark blond hair fell straight to the tops of his shoulders. He had prominent cheekbones and a straight nose, so it wasn’t hard for Castiel to believe his Viking roots. 

Castiel was analyzing the pinkness of Dean’s eyelids when they fluttered open and suddenly Castiel was staring into mesmerizing green abysses. They stayed like this for a while, Castiel wasn’t sure if it was seconds or minutes passing of them silently peering into each other.

Dean was the first to break. “I trust you slept well, vann musa.” He said casually while stretching his arms and rotating his neck searching for knots that Castiel was sure Dean had acquired sleeping in the chair. 

“I have never slept so well in my life, sir.” Castiel paused, spreading his fingers through the white fur blanket, “Thank you. For everything. I don’t understand why you would go through so much trouble for a servant but I am eternally grateful.” 

Dean grunted and stiffly rose from his chair. He braced himself against his desk, leaning heavily on his hands. “Where I come from, a man may not put his hands where they are not wanted. You deserve nothing less than this. I gave no thought as to your status.” He said flatly.

“Where I come from, once you are owned you cease to have any power over your life. By law, Master Henrik can do as he pleases. I am his property.” Castiel replied solemnly.

“You are NOT property, vann musa.” Dean seethed. “You have the spirit of the ocean in you, I can sense it!” He swallowed hard and then continued in a whisper, “You are more than you think. You have purpose.” 

Castiel felt heat rush to his cheeks at the words. No one had ever told him anything like that. He has always belonged to someone, never to himself. For a moment he entertained the idea that he might be dreaming. This strong, independent Viking insisted he saw something in him that Castiel had never before even considered. He wanted so badly to believe as this man does.

But Castiel had learned the hard way that sometimes things are too good to be true. He learned that when Master Gabriel had given him to Master Henrik with promises of a better life. The first day had been nice, with lots of candy and special attention. It was the first night, and every night after that, that had caused Castiel to lose all sense of self. He was taught to obey, and that he did.

He stood to leave, overwhelmed and scared at the flood of feelings and thoughts he was experiencing. Dean saw this and reached his arm out to grip Castiel’s wrist. His fingers went all the way around.

“Please don’t go, vann musa. Henrik is still confined to his quarters but I know you will go to him. You’re loyal.” Dean stepped closer still holding his wrist, “probably too loyal.” He muttered.

“I have chores, Captain. Duties. Master Henrik will take me with him, and if I don’t pack his things soon then he will be very angry.” Castiel replied.

“I do not care. You’re not to go near the brute while he is still on my ship.” Dean said.

Castiel had a desperate note in his voice. “What will you have me do, Captain?”

Dean could see how terrified Castiel was about upsetting his master. His bottom lip trembled and his pupils threatened to swallow the lovely blue in his eyes whole. Dean put his hands on Castiel’s thin shoulders, hoping to calm his fear.

“I would have you stay.”

Castiel shook his head. “It is foolish to think that I could hide in here and Master Henrik would just let me go-“

Dean put a finger to Castiel’s lips to quiet him. “I would have you stay, with me.”

Castiel’s eyes widened in surprise. “You would have me, Captain?”

Dean’s eyes softened but their intensity seemed to grow. “You would have yourself, vann musa.” 

A deep horn blew from the top deck alerting all that they were nearing land. Dean stepped back from the frozen Castiel and pulled on his own wolf fur cape. 

“Time for the criminal to receive his punishment.” Dean flashed a smile and opened his door. With a quick look over his shoulder he said “Stay here.” And he was gone.

The door swung closed, letting just a bit of the sea chill into the room. Castiel felt he should be overjoyed but he felt hallow. He felt an impending doom that twisted his stomach around. He stood trying to understand where this feeling was coming from, when the second horn alerting docking rang out. When the horn ceased, Castiel could hear a chorus of yelling voices, loud and getting angrier. He didn’t think. He just ran out of the cabin as fast as he could and climbed up the ladder to the top deck. 

Sunlight pierced his eyes first, as it was nearly midday. He quickly found the source of the yelling and gasped. There were two groups of men, about seven surrounded Master Henrik and four rallied around Captain Dean Vinnbrystet. The yelling suddenly died down and Castiel realized in horror that everyone was staring at him.

Master Henrik pushed through his supporters and barreled full speed to where Castiel stood. Faintly, he thought he heard Dean yelling a warning but it was too late, as Castiel felt like he had been hit with the full force of a tsunami. 

He immediately blacked out, barely hearing the chaos the broke out right afterward. Castiel floated in his mind and dreamt of happier things…a time when he wasn’t in pain…a time when a handsome sea captain had asked him to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you like this or if this is just a complete screw up that I need to make major changes to, Thank you!!!!


	4. Sleep

Dean stared down at Castiel's barely rising chest. He sat by his bed where two of his men had dutifully carried Castiel after he went down.

"Søvn , søvn, lite søvn," Dean sang in a barely audible tone. He dipped a rag into a bowl of cold water and gently touched it to Castiel's forehead.

Dean was very good at hiding his emotions, he always had been. But the dread he had felt when Castiel's head hit the ground....it was devastating. He found himself murmuring an old lullaby his mother used to sing to comfort him.

 "Hva bør du frykte når jeg er her?" He whispered, voice cracking.

What would he do? In the time he had known Castiel, he felt himself come alive again. This was a man he cared for and had hoped that Castiel would come to care for him back. He thought he would have time. Dean shakily brushed the hair out of Castiel's face. He hadn't listened to the healer when she said waiting was a lost cause. He didn't want to believe it, he still firmly rejected the idea much to his crew's dismay.  

"Søvn , lite søvn." Dean's head fell into his hands. He tried to hold back dry sobs from racking his body.

Suddenly he felt cold fingers touch his arm, he looked up in astonishment. Castiel was looking at him through barely open eyes. He wheezed while trying to say something and slowly wet his chapped lips.

"What were you singing? It's beautiful," Castiel rasped and returned his hand to his side.

Dean slipped out of the chair and onto his knees at the bedside. "Oh Gods!" He breathed in shock, hands hovering above Castiel's body.

"No, it's just me. Castiel." He whispered back with a half smile.

Dean laughed in disbelief. "I thought you were lost." He said, tears clouding his eyes.

Castiel took a deep a breath, "Everything hurts...but I'm still here." He paused and scanned the room, "it's dark. Why isn't the ship moving?"

Dean shifted his eyes nervously. "Almost half the crew deserted after we docked. Some sympathized with Henrik...and others did not agree with my, uh, motivations."

"Your motivations?" Castiel asked.

Dean didn't say anything. He simply cupped the back of Castiel's head, leaned in, and kissed him. Originally, he had planned to ease into closeness like this but seeing Castiel awake and alive had made Dean throw caution to the wind.

When he pulled back, Castiel looked surprised but didn't offer any objections. His eyes were the color blue you see when you're underwater swimming towards the surface. Palpable and distorted and so very much in reach. That feeling when you're almost to the top and your lungs feel as though they're going to collapse and you just know, you know how good it's going to be when you break the surface. This is how Dean felt staring into Castiel's eyes, like he was running out of breath but he knew everything would be okay.

"I have a confession to make, Captain. I came to you under false pretenses." Castiel said softly with the smallest smile on his lips.

"I remember. You pretended no one had brought me water so you could speak more English with me." Dean was confused, but humored him.

"I did it so I could see you again. The English was an just an additional benefit." Castiel weakly leaned up on his elbows, "I felt a true connection with you, Dean. A connection I have never experienced before."

Dean swallowed the lump in his throat and bit his lip that trembled slightly. "You do not know the joy I feel at these words, vann musa."

They got quiet then. Outside, a bell tower rang in the distance. Castiel had laid back down, too tired to hold himself up any longer. Dean held his hand as he fell back into unconsciousness. Gently he got up off his knees and let go of his hand.

"You never told me what you were singing." He heard Castiel mumble right as he got to the cabin door.

"Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep. What shall you fear when I am here? Sleep, little one, sleep." He translated, whispering back to him in the dark room.

Dean walked out into the hallway of cabins. Half of them were empty now. After Henrik and the others left, his remaining crew could only travel a few miles up the coast before docking again. He had sent runners inland to recruit new rowers but it'd probably still be a couple days before they set sail again.

He remembered clearly the looks on some of his men's faces when he rushed to the fallen Castiel. In his culture homosexuality was not shamed as he knew it to be in others, and by the disgust in the air he could tell which members belonged to the latter. They could see right through him. Why else would he be so angry, so fearful for the life of a servant?

He didn't care what they thought but he did care that he was a Captain who had lost the majority of his crew. If he couldn't keep a group of thirty people together for a week, how could he be expected to do so in deep waters? Where they're isolated from others and from leaving?

Dean climbed the ladder to the top deck and was immediately hit with the smell of the ocean. It was tainted with smoke and earth but still rejuvenating. He walked across the deck to the wooden side. The moon was bright and cast an eerie glow on the rolling waves. He looked out at the twinkling lights from the nearby village and wondered if those people had ever travelled more than twenty miles from their birth place.

Hours later in the cabin, Dean still hadn't returned and Castiel couldn't sleep any more. He gingerly eased himself out of the bed and stood up stiffly. His body was sore but there was a lump on his head that hurt the worse.

He stumbled in the dark to the desk so he could light the lantern. When the room was softly illuminated, a piece of paper at the top of a pile on the desk caught his attention. It was written in English, it had a lot of sections that were crossed out but it was definitely English. He figured it must be for him and his suspicion was confirmed when he started reading it.

_~~Dearest Vann Musa~~ _

_~~~~Castiel,_

_I am not in the best place to write you this letter. I will admit, I am very distressed at the situation. You are mere feet away from me on the bed but in spirit you are thousands of miles away. I am told you will not wake up and though I sent the healer away, I do still fear she is right. It is tradition to write to a passed loved one where I'm from so you can say things you never had a chance to. I wish that I could have prevented this from happening. I wish I could have saved you. I regret a lot of things ~~but I do not regret you, vann musa.~~ You are not gone Castiel, but you are lost  ~~to me.~~ I am writing this with faith that you will recover and in hope that I can achieve some sense of relief by doing so. ~~I miss you. Please come back.~~_

_I miss you. Please come home._


	5. Let Go

This time Dean did it right. The two day stay had turned into a week but it was for the better. Dean now had a crew stronger and more united than before. He brought on two Captain assistants, anticipating that Castiel would take up more of his time. 

His second was a man named Pav. Dean wasn't sure of his origins but he had brown slicked back hair, a mustache and a beard that was twisted into a small braid. He was a career con man who had chatted Dean up in a bar. They were kindred spirits, immediately bonding over their similar pasts. Dean didn't necessarily trust Pav, but he was impressed enough to invite him aboard. 

Pav's superior was a woman named Amora. She had extensive experience running vessels and an intense drive to move ahead in the world. She was as tall as a man, with thick blonde hair to her waist. She had a square jaw and dark eyebrows set above gray eyes. While Pav was always laughing and smiling, Amora was a more serious type. 

His recruiters had succeeded in filling the ship to full capacity of eager young men and women. He had specifically tasked them to find "open minded persons." 

They were finally breaking away from the sandy grips of the coast and moving into deep waters. Dean instructed Amora to use the sails as much as possible since they had no set destination. Half the unused oar benches were now used as a sort of eating area, Amora's idea. Since their provisions and stove were down there, it just made sense. 

Dean refused to let Castiel return to being a servant. He had him assigned to the kitchen and Castiel really seemed to be thriving in it. At night he tells Dean all about his day and who's gossiping about who and Dean has never felt so complete in his life. 

He had thought he was satisfied being on the ocean but in came Castiel. It was like having a glass of water. If someone asked, the glass would be considered full. But introduce an ice cube into the water and suddenly it is realized that there was always still room for more. He didn't love the ocean any less, he just realized that he wasn't full before he met Castiel. 

They kissed, a lot. Sometimes it seemed like all he did as if he was no longer even the captain of his ship. Castiel tried to go further sometimes but Dean would just push his hands away and change the subject. 

They also talked. Endlessly about each other's lives and dreams. Castiel told him how he had been born out of wedlock and given to a church. They named him and cared for his needs until war reached his village and he was taken by a soldier. From there he was sold from master to master, not one had bothered to learn some English besides Master Gabriel. He said he didn't know how old he was but agreed that he was probably just a bit younger than Dean. 

Castiel said he hadn't thought of his dreams much, but now that he was free he felt like anything was possible. He liked cooking that's why Dean had him put on kitchen detail. So he mused about maybe becoming a chef one day. 

Dean gave Castiel his backstory piece by piece each night as they sat in the warmly lit cabin. One night it was about his adventures as a boy on his trips, another night he told of how he had to escape a group of men who were angry because he had beat them in a game and won all their money. He tried to talk of good times. 

His dreams were simple. He explained to Castiel that part of his dream had already come true. He was on a beautiful ship with a beautiful man and now all that was left was to see the world. 

When Castiel falls asleep, Dean leaves. He's never there when Castiel wakes up. Dean didn't want to pressure him into anything, especially knowing the abuse he had endured by Henrik. So he slept elsewhere though it pained him to leave.

One night he came into his cabin fully prepared for that evening's story, knowing Castiel would be off duty soon. He lit the candles on his bedside table and sat at his desk to catch up on some log keeping in the mean time. But when Castiel entered, Dean could tell something was on his mind. 

He helped Castiel out of his thick work wear and handed him a set of sleep clothes. Castiel had put on some weight since his freedom was given to him. Not a lot, but enough that his ribs didn't poke out anymore. He looked good, strong. 

Castiel saw Dean eyeing his body and raised his eyebrow while pulling his shirt on. 

"Vænn. Beautiful." Dean said with a smile. 

Castiel smiled back but only for a second.   
Dean moved to sit on the edge of the bed watching Castiel as he began to nervously pace back and forth. 

"Dean, I want you to know how thankful I am. For this new life you've given me. For my job. For everything." He said still pacing. 

"No need to thank me, vann musa. I am happy to give you these things." Dean replied.

Castiel froze in his steps. He turned to Dean with a strange look in his eyes. He strode forward and gracefully fell to his knees. 

"What are you-?" Dean uttered as Castiel started untying his pants. He realized what Castiel was trying to do and captured his hands in his own. "You do not need to show appreciation in this way, vann musa."

Castiel looked up at Dean's sympathetic expression. "I do not now how else to prove to you my gratitude." He whispered. 

Dean pulled Castiel off his knees and onto the bed with him. "I am not your master, Castiel. And you do not need to prove anything to me. I would never expect you to provide pleasure in exchange for your life. Please understand this." 

"I want to make you feel good. You don't have to demand it if I give it freely!" Castiel insisted. 

Dean cupped Castiel's face and ran his thumb across his cheek. "It is not time for me to take, vann musa. Henrik took too much from you and I will wait until your soul has healed."

Castiel's blinked wetly. "Don't you want me? You always leave at night." 

"Of course I want you! I think of nothing else but to be with you!" Dean growled. 

Castiel leaned forward and kissed Dean. He wound his hands around the back of his neck and got a fistful of blonde hair at the roots. Dean kissed back with full passion. They were breathing hard into each other's mouths when Dean pressed Castiel down with his own body until he was on top of him. Without breaking their kiss, Castiel reached between them to continue untying Dean's pants. Dean stopped him once again.

"I thought-" Castiel started to say but Dean cut him off.

"I did not lie when I told you I would wait."

"But-"

Dean pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of Castiel's mouth. "But I am no saint, Castiel." 

With that and with Castiel's new confusion, Dean eased off until he was straddling his thighs. He started to undo the sash that was holding Castiel's pants closed. He pulled them down to reveal a simple undergarment. 

"I will not take, skatten min, but I am not opposed to giving." Dean said with a smirk. 

He started to rub Castiel through the undergarment. He gasped and moaned in surprise. 

"Tell me vann musa, when is the last time you had pleasure given to you?" Dean purred into his ear.

Castiel shook his head, "I have not," he said between huffs of breath. 

"Really?" Dean asked, intrigued. He squeezed Castiel's hardening cock, his hips thrust up in response. "I'll take care of you, sváss." 

Dean pulled the thin clothing away and was greeted by an impressive member in a small mound of curly black hair. It's tip was already glistening and Dean wasted no time. He ran his thumb over the head and folded his fingers around the shaft, watching Castiel shudder. He shifted his body so he was lying on his side, still stroking evenly.

"D-Dean!" Castiel groaned out. His hands clutched at the blanket beneath him and his head arched back exposing his long neck. "Oh God, Dean please!" 

Dean quickened his strokes and leaned in to press his lips against the corner of Castiel's jaw. "Let go, skatten min, let it go." He whispered against Castiel's flushed skin.

Castiel came hard. He bucked up three times and then seemingly melted back onto the bed. He lay there, completely spent, his body twitching as the aftermath of his orgasm subsided. Dean reached over him to grab a rag from the washing bowl and cleaned him up.

Dean pulled Castiel's pants back into their original place. Castiel looked at Dean though hooded eyes, still breathing hard. 

"That was...amazing." Castiel said in awe.

"You are amazing." Dean replied before kissing him again. He touched their foreheads together. "I must go, sváss." He sighed and started to get up.

Castiel grabbed his wrist and pulled him back down. "Don't go. Not this time. Stay with me, please." 

Dean saw the blue in his pleading eyes. The color of the sea under the moon. Beautiful, dark, and so much more powerful than you could ever imagine. 

So he stayed. He knew it would be a show of tremendous willpower but he couldn't turn away from those eyes. He blew out the candle on the table and then settled back down next to Castiel. Castiel gently rested his head against Dean's chest and Dean laced his fingers through Castiel's. 

"Very well, vann musa. I will stay." Dean murmured into Castiel's hair. 

It was very calm in the room. The ship rocked them gently and they fit together so well that Dean imagined them melding into one being. The thought and supporting picture in his mind made him laugh. 

"What's so funny?" Castiel sleepily asked. 

"I don't know where you end or where I begin. But I don't need to know. I am content." Dean said thoughtfully.

Castiel huffed playfully through his nose. "You certainly know how to charm a man, Dean Vinnbrystet." 

"Skatten min, I thought you were tired?" Dean smiled into Castiel's hair.

"What does skatten min mean?" Castiel asked through a yawn.

"It means something like 'my darling.'" Dean answered. "Now go to sleep." 

Castiel tilted his head up so he could see Dean. "Will you still be here in the morning?"

Dean took their intertwined hands and pressed the back of Castiel's hand to his lips. "Always, sváss."


	6. Patience

"Come on, wake up animal! It's time to breakfast!" A voice yelled out accompanied by a pounding on the cabin door. 

Castiel responded by burying his head further into the warm body under him. He groaned into Dean's neck. "I think I speak Norse now." 

Dean's chest rumbled with laughter. He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "What you're hearing vann musa, is very bad English." 

He carefully separated himself from the unwilling Castiel and stretched his arms out. "Ah, shut up Pav! I'm coming, I'm coming." 

Castiel leaned up and watched Dean pulling on his boots. "Pav?" He questioned. 

"My assistant, hearty man he is. A hundr, though." Dean chuckled.

"Ey! Do not insult a man who is with ears!" Pav called through the door. 

Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed Castiel's hands to help him out of bed. They both got dressed quickly stopping briefly to send smiles at each other. 

As Dean went to open the door, Castiel put his hand up to stop him. "Wait, what does he know about us?" 

"It is okay, skatten min. I told him you were my sinni, my companion." Dean reassured. 

"Companion? Does this not mean friend?" Castiel bit his lip nervously. 

"In our language the word félagi can mean comrade or companion. Sinni means companion also but in a more meaningful way. I was careful to refer to as my sinni so he would understand our relationship." Dean explained seamlessly, having obviously put much thought into the word choice. 

Castiel relaxed a little bit. Dean touched his thumb to Castiel's lip and murmured, "Time to roar, little mouse." 

He opened the door, light from the hatch down the hall spilling in and over them. Pav immediately had eyes on Castiel.

"Matsveinn! This is good! We are eating now!" Pav exclaimed, grabbed Castiel's hand and started pulling him down the hall. 

Castiel looked back confused at Dean, who was following. "He sees you're a cook." He said simply, pointing out Castiel's kitchen work clothes. 

When they got to the lower deck, Castiel saved them an area big enough for the three of them to eat while Dean and Pav went to get some food. There was a long table stretched along the back wall filled with breakfast items the morning kitchen staff had made for the crew. Dean had a bowl for himself and a bowl for Castiel. In his own, he put two of everything and he filled Castiel's with porridge. He also got two cups of mead, a drink made from honey, yeast and water for them.

Pav looked quizzically at the bowl for Castiel. "No slátr? How is he going to grow strong?" 

Dean smiled, "Castiel, skatten min, doesn't care much for meat but trust me, he is one of the strongest people I know." 

Pav nodded, looking like he was thinking about something. "...you hold dear this him? I see the way you look on him." 

They were nearing the end of the table and Dean looked his friend in the eyes. "Dare I call it elska?" He said quietly with his heart rapidly beating in his chest. 

"Love? Húsfreyja!" Pav smiled while poking Dean's arm in jest.

"Húsfreyja? I am hardly a house wife!" Dean laughed in mock shock. Pav just smiled wider and continued putting food in his dish. 

Dean let out a deep breath. Pav didn't seem to have any ill thoughts towards Castiel and that would make their life a little more easier. It also brought joy to Dean to find acceptance from someone he respected. 

They walked back to the table, Dean set down Castiel's food in front of him and then took the seat to his side. Pav sat across and silently watched the two as he ate. 

"Thank you, Dean! Er, Captain." Castiel corrected himself since they were amongst various crew members. "My favorite, I love mead." He smiled shyly at Dean and Dean responded by lightly resting his hand on Castiel's thigh. Castiel almost choked but quickly regained himself. 

Dean leaned over to Castiel's ear, "you know, this is the first time we have publicly eaten together." He whispered. 

"And you aren't doing much eating with your hand on my leg." Castiel whispered back. They smiled at each other. Pav felt for sure that they were in an invisible bubble, their own world.

Dean was taking a risk being so brazen in front of his crew, even if it seemed innocent enough. It wasn't a secret that a man who used to be a servant now sleeps in the Captain's cabin. Before being allowed aboard they had each been told that the Captain had certain preferences and that it wouldn't interfere with the job they would be doing as long as they didn't make it a problem. It was a safety measure, Dean had insisted upon. 

Besides, Dean didn't think it their business who he lay with at night or who was in his dreams. 

Pav absentmindedly twisted his braided beard around his finger. Growing up, he had a brother who had the same predilections as the Captain. His name was Halvard. He had been very close to his brother, had cared for him deeply. It was the worst day of his life when his parents had kicked Halvard out. Pav was only a young boy then, and he has regretted not standing up for Halvard ever since. He tried not to dwell on unhappy things but he felt with these two men in front of him, he had a second chance to do it right. 

"Friend, how did you come to be in this animal's company?" Pav said behind his hand as if Dean wouldn't be able to hear him. 

Castiel blushed and pushed his food around, "well I'm sure you know the story." 

"Neinn, I am not familiar with it. I assume he plucked you away from your home so he could keep your beauty for himself." Pav guessed. He thought Castiel looked like one of those expensive dolls noblemen commissioned for their children. His wardrobe lacked but his looks surely made up for it.

"I did not pluck him...he fell into my life. Came upon my ship as a servant actually." Dean corrected. 

Pav made a surprised noise of excitement. "And now you're in the Captian's quarters? Congratulations! Much joy!" He raised his mug in an unreciprocated toast, shrugged and took his drink anyways. 

Castiel hesitantly smiled back at him, shocked by Pav's casual attitude. Inside, he was immensely grateful for the acceptance. He hadn't been sure of what to think of Pav at first but now he felt safe in his presence. Though his exterior may have been rough, Pav had gentle eyes.

A woman came down a few rungs of the hatch ladder and called out something Castiel didn't understand. Pav wiped his face and immediately stood.

"Captain and uh, Blár verr, if you will excuse, I am needed up deck now." Pav said while piling his empty dishes into a bin near the table. He turned to Castiel and shook his hand, "it was a pleasure. We must talk more soon." He waved goodbye to Dean and made his exit.

"What did he call me?" Castiel immediately asked as soon as Pav was out of sight.

Dean took a huge bite of food so Castiel waited as he chewed. "Blár verr? He called you 'blue man.'"

Castiel blinked his blue eyes incredulously. Dean stabbed his spoon in the direction of his eyes, "This is why. No matter what you do it is impossible not to notice your eyes. Vænn." He said. 

It didn't surprise Dean that others could also seen the magic in Castiel's eyes. Blue like that...it's bewitching. He felt a small prick of jealousy but quickly willed it away. He did not own Castiel. As far as he was concerned, he had been given the privilege to know Castiel by the Gods. He would not shame them by not being grateful. He knew they had met because they both had a lesson to teach each other, the Gods were tricky in this way. But he was determined to do right by this man and the Gods. 

They continued eating in content silence for a couple minutes. Castiel's spirit was vibrating it seemed and his attitude was infectious.

"What is it that is bringing you such happiness, sváss?" Dean asked curiously. 

Castiel took a drink of mead and then smiled down at his bowl. "You stayed." He said quietly while looking up at Dean through his lashes. 

Dean grabbed Castiel's hand and held it up to his cheek, "Surely I was a fool for staying away. I'm sorry, vann musa." 

Castiel nervously looked around the deck but no one was paying attention to them. He allowed himself this closeness. "You make me happy. I just want to do the same for you."

Dean smiled cheekily, "you've already succeeded." 

"You know what I mean, Dean." Castiel said earnestly while withdrawing his hand back to his lap.

"Yes, well, we will talk about it later. You're going to be late!" Dean replied while standing and gathering their dishes from the makeshift table. 

Castiel wanted to talk about it now but Dean was right, he would be late if he stayed. Dean cleared everything away and then walked Castiel to the kitchen entrance. He squeezed Castiel's hand like he didn't want to let go, but did so and turned to go up deck. Castiel watched him go, his wolf fur cape disappeared through the hatch. 

Later in the day, after lunch was put out and there wasn't much work to do, Castiel was alone in the kitchen making bread. He found himself humming the lullaby Dean sang to him once while kneading the dough. 

As he was putting the dough over the hearth to bake, he felt hands grab his shoulders from behind and pull him backwards. Castiel was pulled all the way into the pantry before he fully realized what had happened. The door closed and he was in the dark.

Castiel was just about to start really being panicked when he heard something familiar. 

"Søvn , søvn, lite søvn," a low voice sang quietly. 

Castiel spun around, "Dean! Don't scare me like that!" He whispered while placing his hands on Dean's chest, as if to push him away. 

Dean chuckled and lit the oil lantern on a shelf near him. "Then do not be so easy to scare."

Light filled the pantry they were in, there was really only enough room for them each to take one stride back. They stared at each other for a moment and then they both started to laugh. 

"What is this, Dean? What are you doing?" Castiel asked, his hands still against Dean's chest.

"This is me trying to be romantic." He replied while placing his hands over Castiel's.

Castiel snorted. "Well I want you to know that I find," he glanced to his right, "lentils extremely romantic." 

Dean leaned in close, ignoring Castiel's playful sarcasm. "Do you know what you look like right now, skatten min?" He whispered. "You look like the consort of a beautiful Goddess. You have a face that could start wars and eyes so blue that one would think you had stolen little pieces from the sky." 

Castiel was at a loss of words, the mood had shifted so fast. "Consort of a beautiful Goddess, you say?" was all he managed and while he tried to sound like he was teasing, it came out more squeaky than he would have preferred. 

"Or a God." Dean quickly responded. He smiled, hovering just in front of Castiel's lips. "You surely would have your pick among suitors." 

His voice was heavy and Castiel couldn't remember what they were talking about. He slid one of his hands from Dean's chest to the back of his neck. "Stalling is unbecoming of a good captain." he whispered.

They connected. Dean finally kissed Castiel in the pantry with the soft yellow light draping over them. He cupped Castiel's head and slid his fingers through his black hair. Dean used this to lightly tilt Castiel's head back and deepen the kiss. 

Dean backed Castiel to the wall behind him which didn't have any shelving. His hands slid down to Castiel's waist and bunched the cloth there until he made contact with skin. He broke away from Castiel's mouth and trailed his jawline.

"A good captain knows that sometimes patience is necessary for a positive outcome." Dean said into Castiel's skin. "Time can be a powerful ally." He whispered thoughtfully, pulling back to look Castiel in the eyes. 

Dean was trying to get a message across. He knew that Castiel was unhappy because Dean was limiting their closeness but he needed him to understand. He was trying to do the honorable thing by having restraint to a young man who had gone through horrible abuse. Castiel put up a strong show but Dean knew he was hurting inside. He desperately wanted Castiel to know that it is okay to not be okay in front of him. That they had time to work through this. 

"Dean, I-" Castiel started to reply but stopped and smelled the aroma drifting into the pantry. "The bread!" He gasped about to run out.

Dean blocked his way and motioned for him to be quiet. The sound of the kitchen door shutting and someone shuffling around caught Castiel's attention. A gravely woman's voice muttered in Norse and Castiel heard her take the bread of the hearth.

"That's the head cook, Saga. She's going to be so mad that I left the bread unattended." Castiel groaned quietly into Dean's chest. 

Dean felt incredibly guilty that his little excursion now might get Castiel in trouble. He went to the door and tilted his head to hear more clearly. He gestured his plan to Castiel and that he should stay in the pantry. 

"Thank you." Castiel mouthed back and blew out the oil lantern. 

Dean slipped out, closing the door softly behind him. Saga had her back to him, attending to the bread, so he moved across the kitchen to make it seem like he had just came in. For extra oomph he opened and closed the kitchen door loudly to announce his presence. 

Saga looked sharply over her shoulder ready to quip at Castiel for leaving but when she saw it was her Captain she immediately wiped her hands on her apron and turned to face him in respect. 

Saga was a thin older woman with her silver hair plaited neatly down her back. She bowed her head. Dean made conversation with her in their language and mentioned that he had sent Castiel on assignment to another deck. He apologized but she quickly told him it wasn't a problem. She then politely asked to be excused, she needed to collect her staff before dinner. 

When she had gone, Dean went back to the pantry and opened the door to a confused Castiel. He remembered that Castiel didn't understand any of what they had said and made a mental note to maybe give him some lessons in Norse. 

"I told her I had given you another task to complete so do not worry, you will not get in trouble." Dean said while reaching for Castiel's hands and pulling him to the middle of the kitchen. 

"Thank you, Dean." He happily replied and hugged Dean tight. "Saga is a bit scary honestly." 

Dean stroked Castiel's hair, "Luckily, people become nervous around the Captain. They tend to get away as soon as possible." He chuckled. 

Castiel pressed his fingers into Dean's back and whispered, "I'm not nervous." 

"I am." Dean breathed out in reply. 

They stood in their embrace for what felt like forever, but it had only been a few minutes. Reluctantly they separated. Castiel felt they needed to talk, to get everything out on the table. 

"Cabin, tonight after dinner?" Castiel asked. 

Dean smiled gently. "I'll meet you there, skatten min." 

"I'll be the one with blue eyes." Castiel smirked and gave him a push to leave. 

Again he left. As Dean climbed the ladder, he knew that he had to address his own problems tonight. He couldn't blame everything on his desire to protect Castiel from pain. He had to be honest now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean calls Pav a "hound" in the beginning :)


	7. Forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a gay virgin I tried my best

Dean paced the floor of his cabin. He had an overwhelming feeling of uneasiness.

Too soon... A voice whispered in his head. It's not time yet.

How is this not the time? He asked himself. His head was pounding so he poured a drink to calm his nerves. He had always liked the burn it gave, it helped ground him.

He was not accustomed to feeling so nervous. He was also not used to caring so much about another person's opinion. He is Dean Vinnbrystet. All his life he has been his own support. But he had felt a pull from the first moment he laid eyes on Castiel. It was like he hadn't known what was missing until it was found. He didn't know he was hurting until Castiel's touch alleviated his pain.

It was happening fast, yes, but Dean couldn't deny that it was the right course. His heart created treacherous waters and he felt as he had when he captained his first journey, like he was finally where he belonged, but so terribly afraid.

The fear was everywhere in his body, pins and needles under his skin. He poured another drink to try and quiet the whispering in the back of his mind. He sat on the edge of the bed and considered having one more drink.

A light tapping sounded out while the door opened slowly to reveal a tired Castiel.

Dean's heart swelled and beat uncomfortably. "Hello, skatten min. How was work?" He said softly holding in arms out.

Castiel rushed forward and sank into the spot next to Dean. He wrapped his arms around his strong body and laid his head on Dean's chest. "After you left...uneventful. I'm glad it's over." He sighed relieved.

Dean stroked Castiel's hair but said nothing. His fear had struck him silent. The warm body in his arms was reassuring and he tried to focus on that.

"Dean, we should talk. Not our usual talks. I want to talk about us." Castiel said while angling his head so he could see Dean's face.

"Sváss, I am willing. Please go on." Dean replied nervously.

Castiel slowly withdrew himself so his chin was resting on Dean's wolf fur covered shoulder. "I know Henrick's treatment of me upsets you still. I have had many years to come to terms with his abuse and even though it's something I will never forget, it is not something I will allow to control my life any longer." He wound his fingers through Dean's and continued in a quieter voice, "He is him. We are us."

Dean swallowed hard. "You are very wise, vann musa. A better man than I." He put his hand over their joined ones. "I will no longer belittle you by claiming to know your strength."

"What is blocking your heart then, Dean? What is keeping you from me?" Castiel asked, sitting up straight.

"My heart is not blocked, skatten min. It is not my heart, never." Dean admitted, "I am afraid."

"What are you afraid of?" Castiel pressed.

Dean felt his face heat up and tried to inconspicuously look away to hide his color change. Castiel saw this anyways and put his hand on Dean's cheek to turn him back.

"I will not think you weak for having fear." Castiel assured.

Dean stared into Castiel's eyes. They were as the ocean under the midday sun is, reflecting Dean's feelings back at him. He could see his worry and didn't want Castiel to carry any of his burden.

He smiled, nerves still apparent, "My fear is not because of you, it is because of myself." Dean paused for a moment. "I must confess, I am...lacking experience in these things." He didn't mention the whispering in his mind, he didn't know how.

Castiel's eyes widened in surprise but then they crinkled as he grinned at Dean. "Oh Captain, you do not need to be an expert to enjoy the game."

"What if I do not even know where to start? The rules?" Dean stuttered.

"I can teach you how to play." Castiel teased, shifting to straddle Dean's lap. He was taller in this position and it forced Dean to tilt his head back to see Castiel, exposing his long neck.

Dean's blush deepened. "I am not accustomed to being the student."

Castiel put his hands on Dean where his shoulders became his neck. He could feel his erratic heartbeat under his thumbs. He leaned forward so now he was the one stopped right in front of Dean's lips. "Then learn quickly." He breathed.

"Are you sure you are not a wolf?" Dean whispered back smirking.

"No, Captain. I do not bite nearly as hard."

Dean flipped them over so Castiel was on his back. "I like you like this." He kissed him hard. "Teacher, what would you have me do?" He chuckled.

Castiel started by untying the cape and unbuttoning Dean's shirt. Dean tossed each article on to the sheepskin chair and reciprocated the actions back to Castiel. When they were both down to their undergarments, Castiel paused silently asking for permission to continue. Dean took it into his own hands and removed them himself.

Now he was as naked as the day he was born in front of Castiel. He was excited and nervous watching Castiel study him. It occurred to him that maybe he wasn't what Castiel was expecting and his confidence fell a little.

Castiel noticed this. "Don't be ashamed. Your body is breathtaking." He whispered while trailing his fingers down Dean's toned stomach. There were some scars from fights Dean had gotten into around his ribs. He continued lower causing Dean to gasp when his hand made contact with his hardening cock.

Castiel leaned up and over forcing Dean to be on his back now. He kissed him again. "Lesson number one." He said slowly trailing his lips from Dean's mouth, to his neck, to his chest.

Castiel couldn't believe this was actually happening. This is what he had been craving ever since he had became a permanent resident in the Captain's bed. He was confident, he knew how to give a man pleasure and he was pulling out every trick to make Dean's first time be as memorable as possible.

Castiel slid down the bed so he was kneeling between Dean's legs. Dean sat up against the headboard, curiously looking on to what Castiel was up to.

"Tell me, Captain, when is the last time pleasure was given to you?" Castiel purred mockingly.

Dean laughed, recognizing his own line. "I receive pleasure every morning when I wake up next to you, vann musa."

Castiel teased his fingers along Dean's thighs. "Very charming, indeed. But not the answer to my question." He smiled wickedly and lowered himself to be even with the viking's standing member. He wasn't surprised at the size considering Dean's height and blood line. Castiel wrapped his fingers around the neatly trimmed base and gave it one long stroke from bottom to top with his tongue. Dean groaned but Castiel didn't continue until he answered.

"Once, years ago."

Castiel gave it another stroke with his tongue. "Hmm. Was she beautiful?"

"Of course she was beautiful but I find that beauty rarely extends to the inside. You are beautiful in every way imaginable, skatten min." Dean said so earnestly that Castiel almost dropped his teasing.

He started moving his hand up and down, using his other hand to massage Dean's inner thigh. Castiel sucked on the head and twirled his tongue along the sensitive underside. Dean began to breathe heavily and slightly arch his hips off the bed with each stroke.

"She...did not...evoke this kind of...response." Dean panted, having now slipped down to be resting on his elbows.

Castiel hummed around Dean's cock, probably in agreement but all Dean felt was immense ripples of pleasure surge through him. Castiel began to move faster, expertly using his mouth and tongue to push Dean to the edge.

Dean closed his eyes and slipped his fingers into Castiel's hair to control his movement. "Sváss, slow down or I'll..."

Castiel ignored Dean and put even more effort into his actions.

"I'm going to...I'm going to..." Dean breathed out, bucking his hips harder now.

Castiel reached one hand down between Dean's legs. He placed his thumb at his entrance and gave it a little pressure. That was all Dean needed to fall over the edge. He came, and Castiel kept his mouth sealed on the end of his pulsing cock, not spilling any. Out of habit, he swallowed.

As Dean calmed down, slowly phasing back into his body, Castiel crawled back up the bed so he could lay by Dean's side. He wiped the pieces of hair that were stuck to dean's forehead by sweat aside and placed a gentle kiss on his flushed collarbone.

"I'm sorry, sváss. I did not mean to finish so fast, nor before you could move your mouth away." Dean apologized sweetly, wrapping his arm around Castiel and propping himself up on his side.

"It was how I intended. You had no wrongdoing." Castiel replied with a smile.

"Still, I'm a bit useless now." Dean gestured to his softening member. "I know you were hoping for...more."

Castiel pulled him in for a kiss, a slow, passionate kiss. He kicked his underwear off and edged his way under Dean so Dean was laying over him.

"Lesson number two." Castiel pulled Dean's hand to his mouth and sucked on two of his fingers. Dean had a small sharp intake of breath at the sensation but allowed Castiel to then lead his hand between his legs.

Dean's eyes widened. "I don't know how to..."

Castiel guided Dean's fingers to his entrance. "I'll help you, it's okay."

Dean cautiously pressed with his middle finger so it slid into the first knuckle. Castiel moaned and it encouraged Dean to continue until his whole finger had sunk in. Experimentally, he curled his finger which made Castiel gasp.

"Skatten min, did I hurt you?" Dean panicked.

Castiel laughed. "Not at all, you're on the right track actually."

Dean smiled and again curled his finger causing Castiel to gasp again. He slowly rotated the base of his finger around, stretching Castiel. Dean noticed Castiel's cock hardening so he eased his second finger into him and jointly moved them in and out and in circles.

Castiel bit his lip. "Are you sure you haven't done this before?" Dean put his other hand around Castiel's cock and began stroking it in time with his finger's movements. "I am a quick learner." He murmured.

He scissored his fingers inside while Castiel mewed and pawed at the sheet.

"Enough, enough! I can't take it anymore!" Castiel exclaimed, leaning up to stop Dean's movements. He kissed Dean and then whispered, "Please be with me."

The ship started to sway more heavily and a storm rolled in but Dean and Castiel were in their own world. All they could feel, hear, taste, and see was each other.

Dean felt anxiety grip his chest but shoved it away. Castiel looked at him like he was everything and he desperately wanted to be enough for this amazing man.

He laid his body up against Castiel's, feeling both their hearts beating fast. Castiel reached down between them and helped line Dean up.

"Tell me if I hurt you. Tell me to stop and I will." Dean shakily whispered.

Castiel soothingly stroked Dean's face with both his hands. "You won't hurt me. You have done nothing but heal me." He wrapped his legs around Dean. "Please, I want you, Dean."

Castiel looked so tempting with the candlelight flickering across his skin. Dean started to press in and moaned at the feeling of slipping into Castiel's warmth. Dean continued in slowly until he bottomed out, which made Castiel grip Dean's biceps.

"I'm okay, please don't stop." Castiel whispered.

Dean began to make small movement by rotating his hips. He gasped at this unfamiliar feeling. It was as if they were no longer separate beings, they completed each other in every way. They fit together like they were made to. Dean thrust again and again. Their position made it so Dean's lower abdomen rubbed against Castiel's cock with each stroke. They were both gasping and moaning into each other's mouths.

"You're so beautiful...amazing...Castiel. You're so much to me." Dean murmured between kisses.

He could feel himself getting close and Castiel could tell, he was close as well. Castiel wrapped his legs tighter around Dean which made him put more pressure on Castiel's dripping cock. Castiel immediately threw his head back and shuddered as he came.

Feeling Castiel's arousal between the friction of their bodies was enough to send Dean over the edge. He buried his face in Castiel's neck and thrust three last times, becoming lost in his intense orgasm.

When he became aware of his surroundings, he saw them both breathing hard and tears in Castiel's eyes.

Dean moved off Castiel and cradled his head to his glistening chest. "Sváss, why do you cry? What have I done?"

Castiel breathily laughed and wiped the tears that escaped away. "You have done nothing, and everything."

Dean didn't say anything, confused. He just continued to hold Castiel.

"I've never felt needed. I've never felt desired for more than my body until I met you. You cared for me, no one has ever done that for me before." Castiel whispered into Dean's chest.

They slid down until their heads were on Dean's luxurious pillows. Laying on their sides, they stared at each other. Even as they were enveloped by silence, they felt like everything was being communicated.

Dean pulled Castiel back to him so he could wrap his arms around him. "Sváss, I need, desire, and care for you more than I could ever express in this lifetime."

The candle burned out but the darkness fell comfortably. Castiel made patterns with his finger over Dean's skin. "What does sváss mean?"

"Beloved." Dean replied. "I have loved you from the very first step you took on to my ship. I love your spirit, your heart, your soul. I know that I will love you forever, skatten min."

Fresh tears welled in Castiel's blue eyes. "I love you too. Forever."

They both slipped into a deep sleep having never noticed the storm raging outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Home stretch guys! The next chapter will be the LAST. Although this might become a series depending on how well it is received....


	8. Fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta hate those OCs by now, am I right? Well don't worry this is the last chapter for Dean Vinnbrystet and Castiel, so it will all be over soon. ;:)
> 
> Enjoy

Dean's eyes opened. He wasn't laying down anymore, he wasn't even on his ship. He was standing on the ocean- not in, on. His feet rested effortlessly on the water as if it were glass. There were no waves, the water was completely still. It was serene, it was wrong.

He saw nothing but ocean in all directions except one small island in the distance. He steadied himself and began walking towards it. He noticed that it was unusually warm and bright but with no sun in sight. As he got closer to the island he realized it was unlike anything he had ever seen before.

The sand was white, the grains were so small it felt like he had just stepped upon powder. The plants were strange, with large leaves and fruits he couldn't name. He was aware enough to know he wasn't in the same plane of existence that he was used to. This was not of his world. 

Rustling in the thick foliage ahead of him caught his attention. A woman appeared through them. She had golden hair and a dress that had real flowers sewn, or possibly grown, into the fabric. He couldn't figure out the color of the dress because it seemed like it was every color and no color at all. It was when he saw the woman's face that Dean fell to his knees. 

Her beauty radiated off her. Her skin seemed lit from within and it caused her to almost glow. She was the sun, he realized, she was what was illuminating this place. 

He bowed his head respectfully. "Goddess, why have you brought me here? What is this place?" 

"Rise, Dean Vinnbrystet. We have much to discuss." The Goddess chimed. 

Dean did as he was told. Gods are volatile, no matter how beautiful they are perceived. It was best that he be wary. 

She took two steps to the side and gazed out over the still ocean. She didn't say anything else and Dean was worried about what her business was with him. He wanted Castiel. Castiel was smart without trickery, he would know what to do. 

"Goddess, if I may inquire, why have I been taken from my ship?" Dean cautiously asked.

"Do you mean why were you taken from your beloved?" She replied flatly. Even flat, everything she said sounded like wind chimes. 

Dean froze. She took that as confirmation. "My name is Freya. Goddess of love, lust, and death. My purpose will become clear soon enough, young Viking." 

Dean's heart sank. He had heard of Freya. Freya was a selfish Goddess, she was immortal and bored and known for her involvement with humans. He swallowed hard, trying to think but his only thoughts were of Castiel, would he ever see his sváss again?

"First I need to help you understand your history. You fell in love with Castiel the moment you laid eyes on him, did you not?" She asked.

"Aye, I did, Goddess." This was all he could push out in his frozen state. 

"It's important for you to know that this is not the first time this has happened. I have watched you fall in love for thousands of years, alwàays with Castiel."

Dean blinked. "How could this be?"

Freya smiled, causing the flowers on her dress to stretch their petals out. "Rebirth, my son. In each life, you are somewhat different but your soul remains constant. You have no memory of past lives but your soul remembers the lessons it has learned."

"This is not a new thought of mine to accept that Castiel and I were supposed to teach each other something." Dean replied regretfully. "What were our lessons?" 

"Castiel taught you how to love someone. You taught Castiel how to love himself. So you have learned some, yes, but you have barely grown. I try so hard to prevent this." Freya stated.

Dean's eyebrows furrowed. "Prevent what?" 

"Your feelings being a distraction to your lesson." Freya looked on him with pity. "Dean, the love that you and Castiel share is unearthly. There's a balance I need to keep in the world and I can't handle it for long once the two of you meet. I would simply destroy it but no God has the power to dismantle a soul connection." She sighed, "once you declare your love, I have no other choice but to intervene." 

"What you have is rare, and envied by every godly being. I'm sure you know that we are spiteful creatures and we do not take lightly to others having something we can not have." She continued. 

Dean was trying to put the pieces together. "You have watched us for thousands of years. Our souls are reborn and destined to meet in each life." His thoughts were muddled and he was starting to feel faint. "So you have intervened, bestowed this knowledge upon me, and now you will send me back to Castiel?" 

Freya shook her head sadly. "Dean...Castiel will not be returning with you." 

The world seemed to be spinning around him and he couldn't catch his breath. "Where is he? Is he here?" Dean demanded. "CASTIEL, CASTIEL, CAN YOU HEAR ME, SKATTEN MIN?" He yelled, moving around the Goddess unsteadily and peering into the the plant life. 

"He is here, Dean. I have already spoken with him. He understands that his time here is done." Freya said calmly. 

Dean tried to think rationally. Freya was a Goddess who was obsessed with the idea of love. She did anything to get something she wanted and was not a stranger to bargaining.

"What of a poem in exchange? A song? Surely you must have tenderness for a gentle ballad?" Dean grasped at straws, going off of what little he had heard of her. 

Freya stopped to consider. "I've known hundreds of poets who are now dead, their words long ago turned to dust. Words are false. Language is but an afterthought to forces that have existed for all of time." 

"What do you want? What can I give you?" Dean begged. 

The Goddess was not phased by his pleas. "You have never been able to offer me anything better than him because to you, there is nothing better than him. And that is what I want. I want your connection and I will have it as I always do." 

"If you must have one, take me then! Spare Castiel, Goddess. I pursued him, I pursued our love." 

Freya shook her head slightly. "It is not your turn, Viking." She appraised him in his wolf fur cape. She reached her dainty hand out to touch the fur, sending a small jolt through Dean. "This one was a strong one. Sacrificed himself for his pack." She looked him up and down again, "it's quite fitting." 

"Let me see him. I need him, please." Dean whispered, feeling defeated. 

"Very well." 

As soon as she spoke the words, all the plants disappeared leaving only the pearly white sand. Straight across from him, he could see a small figure sitting beside the unmoving water. 

He ran as fast as he could to him. Castiel heard someone approaching and looked behind him. When he saw it was Dean, he stood, just in time for Dean to smack into him. 

Dean hugged him close, breathing unevenly and stroking his back. "Skatten min, I feared for you. I thought I would never see you again." He dry sobbed into Castiel's hair.

Castiel pulled away, crying openly. "It was a test, Dean. And we have failed. We're cursed! Cursed to love and never be together!" 

Dean shook his head. "No, no, no. This can't be." He said, throat thick from the tears that were threatening to spill. "Surely there is something we can do?"

"It's decided. It's done. It has always been like this, and it always will be. Freya, she tells me that this cycle will continue forever, until we learn." Castiel's lip quivered. 

"What must we learn?" Dean pleaded.

"To hide our love." Castiel whispered, his voice cracking.

"You've come a long way." Freya's voice chirped from behind them. "I recall centuries ago, when you were a warrior and Castiel a healer for the enemy. You were struck down, Dean, and left for dead. But Castiel tended to you and hid you in his camp. You were so young then, barely lasted two days before I had to step in."

Freya glided to be standing in front of the men. "This time you almost made it to three weeks. You're learning." 

"Each life our souls remember that the longer we hide our feelings for each other, the longer we can be together." Castiel explained through his tears.

Dean felt his stomach drop. He remembered being overwhelmed and thinking the exact same thing. It wasn't time...it wasn't time yet. Now he knew who had planted those thoughts in his mind. 

Castiel glanced at the Goddess and she nodded slightly. He took Dean's face into his hands. "We will meet again, Dean Vinnbrystet."

Now Dean's voice cracked. "When?"

"In our next life. And each life after that." 

"Castiel, I do not want to live without you." Dean placed his hands over Castiel's cupped ones. 

"You will be without me for a blink, a breath. We will always find each other."

"I had thought I would have more time with you. I had dreamed of showing you every coast in the world, of growing old with you." Dean's tears spilled over. "How are you so strong, skatten min?"

Castiel huffed and Dean watched his clumped eyelashes sparkle and leave drops of dew around his eyes. "I am no more strong than the beach who takes a beating from the sea. Am I willing? No. I just understand that there are things in this universe that we can not control."

"You call this destiny?"

"I call this fate, Dean. I call this goodbye. Not the end." 

"She is going to kill you. She's going to kill me by killing you. Our bloodlines end here, we will be pinched out for a crime we do not know we committed. I can't bare for this to be the end." 

"Bodies are only temporary. Our souls will always come together, I promise. Have faith, Dean." 

"We can fight this! We can fix this!"

"We can fight this, but not now. A good Captain knows when to surrender. There will be a time when we are ready to fight and I will see you again."

"I'll meet you there, vann musa." Dean choked out and put his head in Castiel's neck. He squeezed his eyes closed and held him as tight as he could.

"I'll be the ones with the blue eyes."

Then Dean felt himself laying horizontally. He slowly opened his eyes and saw the dark oak panels above him. His arms were empty. 

The room was cold and he noticed a draft drifting across his furs and tapestries. Fate always gets her way, he supposed.

He heard the storm still raging outside. He knew he had to help his men, he stiffly got out of bed and straightened his clothes. 

When he made it through the hatch and into the harsh air, he went straight to the supplies to tie them down. Halfway through his third tie down, the storm quieted down and began to clear. Dark gray faded to light gray and freezing rose to cold. 

The crew went back to their positions and Dean was left alone standing on the deck. He didn't want to think, that's why he had acted so quickly. But thinking was all he was left with.

Maybe Freya was right, maybe love like that shouldn't be allowed to exist all at once. What power did he have to change this? None. 

At first some wondered what had become of the servant in the Captain's quarters but after a difficult conversation, Pav spread around that Castiel had been lost during the storm. Dean became much more involved in his duties and hardly rested. 

Dean Vinnbrystet was successful. His life was comfortable, all he had hoped for. He had a long career on the sea until he became too old to manage his ship. Eventually after a few more years he settled back in his old village.

He had married his first assistant, Amora and had a handful of children. It was what was expected of him. He was never his same vibrant self again after Castiel though. 

Dean considered this life to be some kind of purgatory. He had so much waiting to do, endless time that he had to fill up with everything but the thing he wanted. It was hard for him to explain why he was always so sad, so for the most part Amora let him be. 

On his deathbed, after a long fruitful life, Dean would tell anyone who would listen how excited he was to see his old companion Castiel. He would say that he's been looking forward to it for as long as he can remember. It felt like another life when he had kissed the beautiful servant in the pantry. 

Dean went peacefully at 82 years of age. 

 

-

Does Dean ever see Castiel again? Do their souls actually keep falling in love? When will they be able to break Freya's curse? 

Are maybe the hunter and angel the ones who are meant to fight and break the curse?

Read on in part 2 "A Thousand Years: This is Not the End"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck, I know. I just love the idea of AUs being connected to the canon in some way. Dean Vinnbrystet was a pleasure to write and I'm a little sad it's over. Dean Winchester on the other hand...he fights for what he loves. I know this is a little over the top but it's good distraction from finals :)   
> Read the next part!

**Author's Note:**

> For the first few chapters I was referring to what little old Norse I could find and just substituted with Norwegian when I couldn't find what I was looking for. From chapter 5 on, I will be exclusively using Old Norse with the exception of "skatten min" and "vann musa." Yay for a dictionary of Old Norse I found!! :3


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